


we're still breathing

by chartreuser



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chartreuser/pseuds/chartreuser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arya discusses with Gendry about killing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're still breathing

They're heading south, posing as brother and sister as they trudge past cities and lands, pretending that the world is a better place from when they have left it.

"M'lady," he smiles as he looks up to her after starting a fire, sparks rustling as a gentle wind blows Arya's fringe into her eyes. It's an instinct for him to brush it away, trace the lines of her eyelids with his fingertips. Arya stares back at him in turn, her gaze a warning as they eat to fill their stomachs.

(But neither of them speaks of the affection that passes her expression, no—it's something that does not need to be discussed, should not be spoken of—)

"Is it easy to kill someone?" he asks when the flames have gone out, when the both of them lie next to each other at night, watching the stars flicker and fade beyond their vision. "To just plunge a sword into someone and watch them go?"

She thinks on it for a moment, breathes in the stale air of the forest. It fills her lungs with sentiment, reminds her how different it smells compared to the bitter winds of Winterfell. "No." Arya blinks, purses her lips. "I don't think it's easy, but you learn to get efficient at it."

"Efficient? How?" Gendry inches closer to her, props himself up by his arms as he looks towards her. In the dark, it's near impossible to distinguish the colour of his eyes, but it looks like a deep blue, those of water under frozen lakes and berries hidden under layers of snow.

"It's simple," Arya tells him, adjusts her body's position so that she's leaning over the boy—man, pressing her finger over his heart.

"You just stick them with the pointy end."


End file.
